


stargazing

by alsodeaddianemoss



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: s02e10 Noel, space geeks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23377588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alsodeaddianemoss/pseuds/alsodeaddianemoss
Summary: we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. -oscar wildejosh reflecting on the solar system that is the west wing.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	stargazing

**Author's Note:**

> hi all! i literally have not written anything in ages but quarantine has helped spark some inspiration! i too am a massive space geek, and have tried to represent everything as accurately as i can. however, i now realize that most of the constellations i mentioned probably aren't in the sky on christmas in dc--i'm hoping i can just chalk that up to creative licensing. i'm at @also-dead-diane-moss on tumblr if you want more nonsense on your feed, happy reading!

Josh loved the stars. 

When he was really little, he remembered climbing up into his father’s lap and reading books upon books about the galaxy around them. Plastic stars littered the ceiling in his bedroom, keeping Josh safe under their ethereal glow. Science fiction could never compare to the seemingly endless patterns of constellations. 

When he was seven, he remembered the constellations by heart. Every night, he would shiver in his backyard while spotting each one, creating a comforting sort of rhythm.  _ Orion. Cassiopeia. Andromeda. Polaris.  _

As their house burned down, and with it Josh’s world, he looked towards the stars with tears streaming down his face.  _ Orion. Cassiopeia. Joanie. Andromeda. Joanie.  _

Josh didn’t put up stars in the new house. 

Books about law and politics became all that filled his brain, and he was able to push the stars aside. Only in fleeting moments would he stop and occasionally look up, only to quickly revert back to whatever memo or task he actually had to do. 

Until now. 

It was Christmas Eve, and he had never felt more alone in his life. He was a black hole, sucking everyone’s happiness while feeling like nothing himself. The world seemed like it was continuing to move at a dizzying pace— _ When it actually moves at a pace of 1,000 miles an hour. Can’t mess up the earth’s axis, can you?  _

“Stop it.” he mumbled. Josh flinched as he became hyper aware of Donna still next to him, her arm looped in his. 

“Josh? Are you okay?” she said worriedly. By now they had arrived back at his apartment, and were awkwardly standing on his stoop. Donna was giving him an expectant look, but did not make a move to separate herself from him. 

If Josh was a black hole, then Donna was the sun: so bright and ever powerful. Bringing light to everything, and also warmth. Healing power.  _ But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. _

_ Juliet died. My sun burns on, will keep illuminating for 5 billion years.  _

_ But Romeo did at least marry her.  _

“Josh.” she said again, lightly touching his arm. “I asked if you were okay.” Josh only shrugged, tears slowly filling his eyes. He sat down on the top stair, with Donna still next to him. 

Without realizing, he craned his head up, and suddenly got a good luck at the stars. On a clear winter’s night, the sky seemed full, and they only twinkled back at him, blissfully unaware of what was happening back on Earth. 

Josh started to cry. What he hoped would be the slightest manly tear turned into big, ugly sobs. Donna stayed; she rubbed his back and held his hand as the tears dripped onto his clothes. When the last, shuddering sob finally ceased, she leaned her head on his shoulder, as if she was trying to transmit as much light, as much warmth, as much  _ life  _ as she could. 

His heartbeat slowed, and he slowly turned to look up again. 

He may be a black hole, but Leo’s been down there before. Leo knows the way out. 

“Donna.” he finally said. 

“Yeah?” she replied, keeping her head comfortably on her perch. 

“Wanna look at the stars for a while?” the words leave his mouth quickly, and he looks away, anticipating her leaving and getting as far away from the black hole that is Josh Lyman. 

“Of course.” her voice is a little choked up as she looks up with him. “They’re beautiful tonight.” 

“Donna, look, there’s Orion.” she smiled at him. “Then there’s Cassiopeia, and if you look a little more to the side, you can see Andromeda.” 

“Why didn’t we do this instead of reading physics?” Donna asked him, a chuckle hovering on her lips. Josh smiled at her—a real, genuine, dimple smile—and suddenly knew that no matter how powerful the black hole, the sun could still creep through. 

_ That’s not scientifically accurate—oh shut up.  _

“Maybe we can do this from now on.” Josh said quietly, partially still in awe of the sky above him. 

“Okay.” 

They sit for another minute, and just for that minute they are only Josh and Donna, not Deputy Chief of Staff and his assistant, not black hole and sun. 

It’s perfect. 

Before Josh knew it, he’s back inside, drinking tea and falling asleep on the couch while Donna watches  _ It’s A Wonderful Life.  _ When he woke up, she was gone. 

It’s cloudy outside. 

He wandered over to the counter, where there is a box wrapped in blue paper and a note. 

_ Josh,  _

_ I know you don’t celebrate Christmas (hence the blue paper), but I got this for you. I’ll be back this afternoon. Don’t forget to take the pills if your hand is bugging you.  _

_ Merry Christmas.  _

_ Donna _

After closer inspection, Josh tore off the paper that Donna had wrapped so neatly. 

He gasped. 

It’s a box of plastic stars. 

Without thinking, he moved into his bedroom and began to stick them to the ceiling, just like he and his father did so many years ago. 

When Donna found him, he’s lying on the floor. The room is dark, illuminated only by the greenish glow of the stars on the ceiling. 

“So I take it you liked my gift.” she said, and laid down next to him. 

“Yeah.” he grabbed her hand. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? I don’t think Toby could take me seriously if he knew I had stars on my ceiling like a little kid.” 

“You got it, boss.” Donna replied, and they sat in silence. 

The stars had always been his secret. First between him and his father, then between him and his sister. That part of him was always lightyears away from the Josh people knew, the Josh who was a political mastermind or an arrogant jackass. The only people who knew were Joanie, his father and Donna. 

Donna, who under the glow of the stars looked more beautiful than in any dress.

“Merry Christmas, Donnatella.” Josh said, emotion lining his voice. 

“Merry Christmas, Joshua.” 

The sun shone through. 


End file.
